


Always You

by InnerSpectrum



Series: Mystrade is Our Division Prompts [74]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Facebook: Mystrade is our Division Fic Prompts, Marriage Proposal, Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22483582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: Gregory and Mycroft learn for themselves howThe universe is rarely...
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Mystrade is Our Division Prompts [74]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1090899
Comments: 14
Kudos: 92





	Always You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts | Cookie

Though they had spoken on the telephone a few times, Gregory Lestrade had finally been invited to the Holmes’ family cottage to officially meet Mycroft and Sherlock’s parents. John Watson had given Gregory a heads-up on how normal the parents were, given their extraordinary sons. Still, seeing them for himself had been wonderful. He was particularly enamored of the brilliant Mummy Holmes who quickly took to Greg, so happy that someone could understand and truly love her eldest child.

Mycroft gave him a small tour of the grounds around the cottage, then a tour of the cottage itself that ended in his childhood bedroom. Greg looked around curiously picking up items and getting the stories on things that were precious to Mycroft.

“And then there is this…” Mycroft held a navy, royal and pale blue bakery box that had been folded and flattened between the pages of a volume from an old encyclopedia set.

“Hey, that’s a box from Clay’s Bake Shoppe! That place closed in the early 80’s.” Greg recognized the box. “What are you doing with that?”

Mycroft pulled out a paper that had been folded with it. “I was seven, it was just before Sherlock was born. My father had given me a box of cookies from someone who didn’t even know me. It was the first time in my life, that I knew of, where someone not related to me, employed by my family, or otherwise obligated to, had done something nice just for me.”

He had started to hand Greg the note to read when Greg softly gasped in obvious recognition.

“It says - _I bet you’re going to be the best big brother ever! Here's some cookies just for you. Don’t share. -_ Doesn’t it?” Greg near whispered in wonder.

Mycroft looked from Greg to the still unopened note in his hand and back. “This… this was YOU?!”

Gregory nodded as he grinned at Mycroft’s rare expression of genuine shock and explained.

><><>-<><><

“No! No! Wait! Please! _WAIT_!”

Greg looked up at the harried looking man that raced from his car to the bakery door.

Greg's hand was on the door sign about to turn it over to “Closed” when he heard the tall man yell. The man waved frantically to get Greg’s attention as he ran towards him.

It had been a rare slow afternoon at the bakery even for a Sunday. No one had come by in nearly two hours. Greg's father had checked the stock, arranged the shelves as well as swept and mopped. Greg’s father then called the owner and had permission to lock up early if no one came by within the next half hour. It would get them out an entire hour early and Greg was looking forward to it.

“Figures!” his father muttered, “Let him in, but turn the sign after him.”

“Thank you! Thank you!” the man said gratefully and went straight to the counter as Greg locked the door behind him.

It turned out the man’s wife was pregnant and craved strawberry shortcake, specifically the strawberry shortcake from Clay's Bakery. It was something a neighbor had shared with her a couple of months ago and now she really craved it. Apparently, the woman had a very discriminating palette and would know if something else was substituted. The wife had him drive down over an hour to come to the bakery. She had had fussed at him to leave earlier just in case, because it was a Sunday. The man most certainly did not want to drive back to his wife empty-handed.

“Besides, where would I get the boxes?” the father-to-be chatted with his father as the elder Lestrade hand-whipped the cream for the cakes and assembled them. The navy, royal and pale blue print boxes of the bakery were as much a hallmark of their wares as the treats inside.

Their strawberry shortcake was one of their best-sellers. They had made batches of the pastry and had strawberries in the refrigerator prepped for the next day. Greg would be in school, but his father would have to come in early tomorrow and replace the batches to be ready for the usual orders.

“I think this will do.” The man grinned as he looked around.

“You said you have a son, sir?” Greg asked the man while his father carefully packed the desserts for travel.

“Yes, just a little younger than you.” He answered.

“I bet everybody ‘round him is talking about _the baby_ , ya? Get him something too so he don’t think he’s been forgotten about.” Greg advised.

“You, young man, are wise well beyond your years. That is a most excellent idea!” The father nodded.

“Thank you, sir.” Greg grinned.

“That’s my boy. Always thinking of others.” Theo Lestrade said proudly.

“What do you suggest?” the man deferred to Greg.

Greg made a selection of cookies and packed them in a small box with a note for the boy.

By the time everything was done, their potentially free hour was nearly over. His father was not happy about it, but Greg had thought it worth to see the man so grateful and hoped the brother-to-be would be happy with his gift.

><><>-<><><

“You once told me that the universe had put me in your life just when you needed it. _The universe is rarely so lazy_. Here’s proof of it.” Greg reverently touched the paper in his lover's hand.

Mycroft gently unfolded it and together they looked at the note the then ten-year-old Greg Lestrade had unknowingly scribbled to his future lover, the then seven-year-old Mycroft Holmes.

“Getting Sherlock to begin straightening out his life and mostly off drugs where I could not. Getting me out of that God forsaken cell with Eurus. Now I learn that back when I thought no one really cared for me anymore it turns out that back then, without even knowing me, even way back then, you did.” Mycroft refolded the note into the flattened box, put them both back into the pages of the encyclopedia and placed the volume back on the bookshelf.

“It seems it has always been you, Gregory,” the Iceman spoke with soft amazement as he looked into the eyes of the man he loved. “May it continue to always be you for the rest of our lives.”

“Mycroft…” Greg startled when his lover’s words sank in, “Are…are you asking me to...?”

“I am…” Mycroft pulled Greg into his arms. “Will you marry me Gregory Lestrade?”

“What, no ring?” Greg teased.

“I believed Mummy baked earlier today. Will cookies do?” Mycroft playfully countered.

"It's how we got started after all," Greg raised his lips to his now husband-to-be, “Yes.”


End file.
